


Astra Visus

by rubellites



Category: Cravity (Band), Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Fluff, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, lowercase intended, side hyunghyuk bcs they're my og, someone associated jungmo with colors and boom this happened, this is very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27042547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubellites/pseuds/rubellites
Summary: Serim rarely sees the world in its true colors. but when he does, it comes with a tender warning. a cluster of petals in his veins, a presence that carries stars in his eyes and wonders spilling out of his touch. serim can't help but named him love.
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon & Lee Minhyuk, Koo Jungmo/Park Serim
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Astra Visus

  
_Astra Visus  
(n) the activity of looking up at the stars and objects in space_

I.

it serves as a daily reminder for serim that the universe is always on to something with the way his day starts with boisterous sounds that jolts him awake from his sleepy haze, spilled nearly a quarter of his coffee into the white pavement below. people around him don't seem to bat an eye and continue shouting their lungs out to their phone. Their high boots kicking on the snow, sending a series of white gash over him, covering the lower side of his coat with snow dirt. serim grimaces. they clearly aren't interested in keeping the rules "common etiquettes for common places".

city brats.

that's how his flat mate, lee minhyuk, who's apparently is his neighbour from his hometown too, used to call the people of seoul. and serim grew to loathe seoul the same way. just another reason why minhyuk's a bad influence for him.

"but you love me, so i'm not entirely a bad influence. and i am the one keeping you alive on this damned city! remember that, kid", serim could imagine minhyuk sitting crossed-legged across their shared apartment, huffed softly to the falling strands of his cinnamon hair, a childish rasp to his voice. his grimace deepens.

serim walks until the tall buildings shifted into much smaller ones.

the sun is swallowed by another rolling clouds when he enters the said complex, feet strides along a line of colourful vendors. the shades of the buildings are so vivid, the perfect opposite from the ones he used to see near his condo. then, serim realizes he hasn't been paying a good attention to the change in his surroundings, work of arts eagerly displayed in that part of the city. 

"are you sure they only have one flower shop at _lucciola_? and how do i know the man you're talking about? there's like, tons of people who's lean and tall and seriously, _sincere_? that's not even a physical trait" serim's voice masked with annoyance, he started to regret agreeing to lend minhyuk a hand.

"if i tell you the store's colour i can't guarantee you'd see the same", minhyuk utters with a sigh, and for a moment there's nothing but the stillness that follows. 

"just remember, the only flower shop... and sunset", minhyuk seems to notices the way serim's brows furrow, but he doesn't bother to elaborate.

"you'll know when you see him. he will be the only one there".

serim thought minhyuk was bluffing about the _only_ flower shop and the _sunset_ , not until he sees them.

it's a small shop, with teal-coloured wall and flowers covered almost half of its storefront. serim could even smell all the flowery scent from where he stands. the eccentric flower shop would look extremely out of place if it exists on his part of the city. good thing lucciola is far from the word 'dull'. serim takes no time making his way to the shop. the bell jingles softly as he pushed the entrance door.

"welcome!" serim's presence is greeted immediately by a tall man with charcoal coloured hair adorning his head. his back is on the counter, seems a bit occupied with a pile of cellophanes and a bunch of sunflowers on the table. serim's eyes shifted to even more flowers decorating the walls, paintings cover the rest of the space, and odd sculptures made of glass filling the counter, leaving a narrow space for him to lean his arm on it.

"uh, hello. i'm park serim, pleasure to meet you."

"the pleasure is mine," the owner of the charcoal hair turns his back to greet him properly and then serim's eyes slowly widen.

sunset. 

the man's eyes are the colour of sunset. so incredibly bright serim has to hold his breathe, "are you by any chance here because of minhyuk?"

"yes, he said to...," serim tries so hard to not letting the sunset man knows he's a bit too interested to those unusual orbs. he puts his mind back to the ground, but he himself is entirely unsure of what minhyuk really mean by his words, "he said to pick up his usual? i'm afraid i don't know what that means."

"a man with a thousand of riddles, that's what minhyuk really is," the sunset man nods, wearing a thin smile and puts a hand on serim's shoulder "good thing i spent my childhood reading gaston leraux. would you wait here for a moment, serim? i'll be back in a minute."

"sure."

serim tears his eyes away from the sunset man, back to the paintings engraved to the teal-coloured walls. if serim had to describe lucciola with only one word, he would choose _lovely_. 

the paintings are no different. it's quite... extraordinary, serim thinks. with tint of colours he has yet seen in any other paintings, strokes a wonderful scenery of a city serim recognize as lucciola itself, but from different kind of perspectives. serim's brows furrow. he feels his mind buzzing with curiosity.

"do you like the paintings?" serim almost jump at the sudden voice. the sunset man now standing not far from him, holding a huge bucket of burgundy coloured roses on his right hand and a medium-sized pitch-black box on the other, "all of them are painted by a friend of mine. his hands really do have wonders. i think you'll meet him if you take the other way to go home, the commute from the south."

serim only nods, his eyes still fixed on the striking burgundy roses, and the sunset man realizes it too, "lovely isn't it? minhyuk has a thing for white roses, and i got what he asked inside this box."

oh. serim smirks on the back of his mind. white roses while all he sees is burgundy? that's definitely new, "bet minhyuk would love this so much" he gives the sunset man a little smile before the other hands him the roses and the box.

"i'll take my leave then. thank you, sir...?"

"hyungwon, and no need to be so formal with me, serim," the sunset man says, a smile returning but this one wider and so gentle, "mind to greet minhyuk for me? tell him if he has the time to visit again, i'll be more than happy to welcome him. good day, serim."

"of course. good day, hyungwon."

II.

if serim has to name a trait of him that always leads him to both the best and the worst of any situation, he would name it; curiosity. serim has always been curious. so with the sunset man's direction on his pocket, his feet trails down another block of the colourful condos, hopefully searching for the art shop, and if he's not down on his luck yet, the painter. 

serim stops when he realized he's back on his trail, has not gone anywhere except circling the same lines of vendors, just at the opposite part of the sunset man's flower shop. the vendors on his sight is much smaller but the colours are even more abstract.

and then he sees it, crimson red and blue blaring from a shop with a lilac wall and smothered paint decorating the frontstep. he would have thought it was the end of the world by the way reds paint all of his view and blues spilling through the pavements. but the sun still high up the sky and he still feel the gentle wind embracing his skin, no chaos in sight. the colours he sees, there were only emotions. and serim wonders who could have wear such a raw piece of their heart on their sleeve. curiosity, always has serim wrapped prettily around its fingers.

he takes a deep breath and enters the peculiar shop. 

serim hate to exaggerate but he feels like he steps into an entirely different world. the art shop, he notices, differs from what he'd expected judging from the colourful storefront. the walls are russet in colour and the place are clean from messy paint. there are no piles of canvas on the wooden floor nor unfinished arts decorating the wall. atop a huge table mounted on the wall, are red candles of all shapes and sizes, some burnt down and others still untouched by fire. serim would mistake this shop as a witchcraft place if not for the one huge canvas seated on the center of the place, with someone visibly intruded by his presence behind it. 

"hello", a gentle voice coaxed him out of his thoughts, "i'm afraid we are not open yet until next week", the person reveals himself, and the first thing that catches serim's eyes and perks up his curiosity is his stud earrings. the marine glow strikes as the man walks towards serim. he looks as if he paints a ray of sunshine all over his face.

but to his own surprise, the stranger suddenly gasps softly to his hand when he's only a step away from serim.

"oh my, you're real." 

serim doesn't have the slightest idea of why would anyone think he's just a fragment of their imagination. but his confusion towards that matter ceased when his eyes catches the painting, his own face staring back at him. but much more endearing and exquisite. 

he tries to let out a word but the stranger beats him to it, "so your eyes are the colour of ashes."

serim blinks, "that's a way to describe it."

"i thought they were brown."

"no, they're-" and then it hits him, the oddity of having someone paints your face with not only the fact that he isn't being fair, for this version of him in the painting clearly looks like a demi-god belong to a myth, but also that they are _strangers_ , "you are a painter."

"i am."

"and this is my face."

"apparently so."

his mind buzzes with loaded questions but he only manages to say, "won't you get a sentence for painting a stranger's face without their consent?"

jungmo smiles in amusement, his eyes twinkling like they made of stardust, "i don't know-" he eyed the tag on serim's left chest, "park serim. would you like the authority to arrest me?"

"i- no. of course not. but it's-" serim bites his lips, "odd. you don't even know me."

"oh, you could've just asked. i'm koo jungmo. twenty one years old, an aquarius. your turn, mr. park, give me two information about you so that we're even."

serim scoffed, "that's not what i mean. and i'm not giving personal information to strangers."

"well, should've tucked that name tag deep in your pocket then. and do strangers scared you that much? i mean, it's daylight. and as you can see" jungmo gestures towards his own figure, "i can't even throw a punch let alone try to rob you. and i bake too. do you think someone who bakes is capable of comitting crimes? i don't think so. and strangers? when you're the one who walks into my shop?."

"you..." serim takes a deep breathe, "talk too much."

"barely passed the introduction chapter and you're already throwing criticism? well, i don't like your coat."

"hey, that's a bit too much. this one's my favorite."

the moment their humor wears down, serim could see guilt slowly creeping on to jungmo's face, "i deeply apologize for this, mr. park" he puts on a different smile, "you haven't meet me before but i couldn't say the same for me. that's why i decided to put your interesting facade on a canvas. you could take it if you want. i didn't mean any harm to you in the first place and i'm in no way had been stalking you or such."

serim feigns focus until jungmo moves towards the canvas with his face on it, "where did you meet me?"

"it will sounds crazy but," jungmo stills, contemplating for an answer. then he lets out with a breathe, "in my dreams."

serim's mind stutters to silence. and he would think jungmo's crazy if he himself isn't the one who sees red and blue across the room, illuminate his view as if he's on a sinking ship.

"i believe you", his eyes linger on jungmo's back, his voice sounds softer than serim intended to, "i mean, it did sound a little crazy but i think i've met a few crazier people than a person who dreams of a stranger. and you can keep it, it's your painting after all."

for a moment, the whole room went silent and they both smile unbeknownst to the other.

"okay, then. let's start from square one," jungmo gets up and outstreches his hand slowly towards him, comfort drips from his honey voice, "i'm koo jungmo, twenty-one years old, an aquarius. i paint for a living and bake for fun. pleasure to meet you, serim."

if serim were inside a sinking ship, he must be already halfway underwater from the way the red and blue hues become more vivid, sending him a message alike warning. but serim knows danger when he sees one. so he took jungmo's hand, smile soft around the edges.

III.

they flow like river. one day he meets jungmo in his art shop, the painter's shoulders sag in the most awkward way, and then a few days after he found jungmo sits comfortably on his couch, inside his apartment. and of course, one of the reasons why jungmo's here is because minhyuk's not.

serim like it better this way. formerly, he would think of jungmo as a person built from a fiction, reek of musty oil and paint smears on his skin. he always seems distant, like the stories that splutters out of his mouth, like his particular interest in astrology and why he bakes and the story of him finding out about lucciola, were weight nothing. like he himself was just a part of his own imaginary.

he never thought a place could change a person. 

"you're from around here?" 

jungmo finally decided to settle himself on the wooden floor, chess pieces splattered on the table, long forgotten the moment serim comes back with two mugs of his homemade coffee. and jungmo more than happy to scoots a little so that he could sit beside him.

"no, but my hometown's just an hour away, so i'm pretty familiar."

"thought so, you don't seem like someone from the suburbs."

serim holds down a laugh, "is it because the way i talk?"

"no, it's because the way you _walk_ " jungmo says without missing beat, a slight smirk on his thin lips, "like you own this city."

"that's called being confident."

"i like confident", serim holds a hand up to his mouth for a moment before sliding it to the back of his neck, thoughts filled up with _what's that supposes to mean._

but jungmo doesn't seems fazzed at all, he lifts the mug and takes a sip, "oh, you're good at this coffee thing, aren't you?"

"i thought my 'thing' was pretty obvious since people always say i smell like fresh grounded coffee beans."

"you kinda do, but i don't see you working on a cafe nor putting on that particular barista apron, so i thought you just like coffee."

"i do work in a cafe. but i'm more like a supervisor? you know, that person who's responsible for the supplies and the finance and meeting the vendors and stuff." 

jungmo nods, but he looks at serim as if he were growing a second head, "so, a coffee man."

serim deadpans, "yeah, whatever. that works too."

It's only after serim gets comfortable with the silence, that jungmo's voice cuts in.

"feels home in here yet?"

the question throws him off guard.

serim thrums his fingers on the table, inches away from jungmo's. the ever lulls between working and living are voids of time that serim has never considered any part of his life as a constant thing. and that's the problem. home is constant. and it should be the only one in this world yet the thought of _home_ itself brings so much yet also nothing to the table. he may mistake sheer feelings and memories as home, and that's why he never decided to have one before.

"yes and no. if happiness is what you mean by home, i have my own shares in the past. not sure if i've settle with anything though."

a fond smile, then a nod, "so you're still searching for one."

"i am, but not in a rush."

serim finally shifts his gaze to jungmo's eyes, pink hue decorating his cheeks, feeling too conscious by the weight of jungmo's stare but doesn't want to lose either.

jungmo was the one who breaks the stare first. and then they sit in silence. serim barely could think of anything else besides swallowing the intricate details of jungmo's being. his black strands that look like a midnight sky, his defining jawline and thin lips. and his eyes.

stars started falling into his room and then jungmo's voice falters.

"not so subtle with the staring, aren't you, _park serim_ " jungmo smirks, making sure he drags every syllable of serim's name teasingly.

serim rolls his eyes even though he could feel his cheeks go warm, "need me to remind you that you literally said my facade is interesting the day we first met?"

"i say no such thing."

"Aquarius folks really hate being honest, huh."

"oh, like Pisces could do any better"

their conversation lulls again, the distant music playing in nearby buildings and commonation below his condo take over. 

Serim doesn't miss the way their hands accidentaly brush, knuckles grazes one another. but jungmo doesn't pull away. instead his fingers slowly interlacing with serim's own. he could hear jungmo hums softly, one of his stud earrings turning turquoise under the sunlight.

perhaps this is home.

IV.

jungmo that runs after him strikes sunlight and all while the world still sleeps in winter and silence. it's fascinating to see, the contrast between jungmo's pitch black strands, equal to his attire and the white, white, and even more white surrounding him. making him alike a dot in blank space, a single star in a deep night sky.

then serim wonders about how jungmo is always a presence who seems unreal just as much as he is, conspire against the law of human for taking form of something too wonderful to be considered one. 

"if i were something aside from human, what do you think i am?" jungmo had asked him one day. voice came out as a distant whisper, as if knowing serim's probably close from taking a brief slumber, his head resting comfortably on jungmo's lap.

jungmo's place that day was smothered in rain of sunlight, emitted a warm yet far too bright for serim's liking. so that explained his way of taking advantage of the huge canvas to blocking the light, earning a fond smile from jungmo.

jungmo smells of white lilies and fresh linen, serim recalled from the back of his mind. 

"a star."

the gentle sound of brush strokes came into a halt. serim could see through his closed lids, confusion that masked jungmo's pretty facade. 

"because you gleam and spark like one would see stars in space. moreover, you're an open book yet a closed door. people will always try to own you, like the way they 'buy' stars and named them. but the truth is, you're never anyone's in the first place."

he could hear a smile in jungmo's voice, "but i'm yours." 

"are you?" serim opens his eyes only to find the owner of his thoughts staring back at him with a familiar diamond glow, "it's true. your eyes, they look like falling stars"

serim thought jungmo would take his words as if he's a falling star, an asteroid that crashes and burns across the sky. something so magnificent yet destructive in so many tangled courses. but jungmo has never been a common conception and serim words have never held any vile intention. 

serim himself thinks falling is beautiful.

"falling stars, huh" jungmo's all smiles that day, "that means you're the gravity."

then he hears jungmo shouts from distance, dragging serim's mind back to the ground. his serene expression turned into a deep frown as soon as he realized jungmo's currently throwing himself into a huge pile of snow, his dark strands engulfed in white. 

serim scowls, trying to get a hold of him, "get up. you're going to get yourself terribly sick."

he feels jungmo's hand welcomed his outstretching one, and for a second, he thought jungmo's _finally_ learning to listen. but the very thought ceased when suddenly he lost his balance, feet knocked off the ground, feeling a pull from the hand holding his own.

serim feels the snow right off his face. then he hears jungmo's hysterical laugh.

"oh, god. you look like bigfoot from monster inc."

"i'm _sorry_?" 

"because you're adorable and your white coat really complements the snow!"

the _adorable_ part hits him like a lightning bolt, and so for once, serim decided to go along with jungmo's words.

they stopped at a small ice cream parlor. serim could see the confused gaze of people passing by because who's in the right mind would eat ice cream on winter? but serim has never been the one who play by the rules. and it's like a match made in heaven that jungmo doesn't too.

"you don't see colours?" jungmo asked once they settled down inside with ice cream on their hands, away from the window and the cold.

"it's not the kind of colour-blind that common to the ones you may know, though. sometimes i just simply don't recognize it as the colour others do. i like to think of it like an ability to see the meaning behind things and also, people."

"that's interesting."

"it's a bit of hassle when i was young, but i've grown to like it."

"it sounds wonderful, serim" jungmo stops for a moment, "and what colour do you see in me?"

serim recalled the crimson red and sapphire blue blaring like sirene when he sees him for the first time. deep pine green when he sees him paints. brilliant silver and gold when he throws his head, laughing bashfully at serim's jokes. innocence pink now when he watches jungmo happily scoops the chocolate mint ice cream into his mouth, starlight gleams on his pale cheeks.

"many of them but one thing for sure, they're all beautiful."

V.

serim thinks it always been their own way. naming each other after colours, one with words and the latter with brushes. and he wakes up another day with a feeling of attachment towards lucciola more as he has gone there thrice in just a span of a week. and he's a fool if he thinks minhyuk wouldn't catch up to him soon.

"the way i see it" minhyuk starts, one hand holding onto his cup of rose tea and the other holding onto a rolled cigarette that he hasn't lit. they decided to have a breakfast together this time because minhyuk's finally going to visit hyungwon along with him, "you're in love with this art boy."

"he's a painter, and his name is jungmo."

"so, painter boy, whatever" minhyuk shrugs, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "oh, you're not complaining at the 'you're in love' part so it must be true."

"what's your point, exactly?"

minhyuk puts down his cup and lit his cigarette, "why don't you bring him over? you could do yourself a favour by introducing him to me, you know. i might caught him tripping if he turns out to be a menace."

"you're not my parents."

"i practically _raised_ you, kid. bring lover boy here, we'll have a nice candle-lit dinner and all that sappy romance shit you like. you could even invite hyungwon too."

serim suddenly remembers the burgundy roses the sunset man gave to minhyuk. the deep reddish-brown shade that serim takes as the symbol of sophisticated affection.

he tilts his head at minhyuk, holding back laughter with an amused smile, "now we're talking about _your_ lover boy." 

minhyuk glares, "no, we're not. you said one time that the paintings on hyungwon's walls were all jungmo's work so i concluded that they are friends. jungmo might want to have a familiar face around so he wouldn't be so scared of me."

serim let his eyes level with minhyuk's gaze, "of course he would be so scared even when i will also be present at that moment."

"for fuck's sake, wash that shit-eating grin off your face, serim. i swear he's not my loverboy."

he finally let out a laugh, "alright, alright. i'll bring both of them over but if the night ends with you excusing yourself to go to hyungwon's place, you owe me one week worth of meals."

"now that's a bit too much, can't you see i'm a struggling author who lives off canned food?" serim eyed the cup of rose tea on their kitchen counter he knows costed almost three packs of cigarettes, and then he shifted his gaze back on minhyuk, clearly unamused. 

"ugh fine, just make sure both of them come."

VI.

this time, serim drives to lucciola with minhyuk on the passenger's seat. serim always love the moment when the buildings around him shifted in size and colours. how the dull skyscrapers are replaced with mundane buildings and small condos with bright shades of pastel.

"you love it around here."

it's not a question but serim answers anyway, "yes."

"they're so pretty. like flower gardens but replace the garden with building."

serim almost laugh at minhyuk's chosen phrase. but deep down he knows minhyuk's right.

and then he spotted the familiar teal-coloured flower shop. the sunset man stands in the storefront with his signature bright smile, waving towards them. and serim swears he could see minhyuk's eyes lit up like fireworks the moment their eyes meet.

but serim doesn't have the time to point out minhyuk's not-so-subtle reaction, not when he realizes there's another person inside the sunset man's shop, holding a bucket of colourful roses and midnight strands peeking out from his soft pink beret. 

serim takes a deep breathe when they finally enter the flower shop, " jungmo, you look lovely."

"and so are you" jungmo beams the way he only did whenever serim's around, "i got you these. thought yellow suits you and hyungwon said roses are the most common for gift or such."

serim smile widens when he realizes the meaning of the colours he sees on the roses, "and you're right, i love them. thank you, jungmo."

"enjoy your day, _lovebirds_ " the tone on minhyuk's voice is both well and scandalous, serim almost has the nerve to punch him right in the gut, "and serim, i'll be here on hyungwon's while you're away, okay? just text me when you're finished with your _date._ "

that earns minhyuk a laugh from the sunset man, "nice to know you have been so _friendly_ with my colleague i mentioned back then, serim" hyungwon's eyes fall to jungmo, his gaze sweetens, "have a nice day, both of you."

they bid another word towards the couple before jungmo and serim stepped out from the flower shop, hands in each other's, and for the first time in his life, serim embraces the colours that weren't quite the truth. his eyes are now lost somewhere on the horizon, and later found in jungmo's star-like ones.

**Author's Note:**

> "please for once write something that actually makes sense" no <3.


End file.
